Overhearing
by QuierdoMusic
Summary: Every boy wants to be famous on his school. So does Sam. Dean has to be the older one. Sammy's 14 and Dean is 18... R&R... One-Shot...


:D I forgot to post this yesterday…

**Well…. Okay…**

**Sammy's fourteen and Dean's eighteen.**

**:( I'm tired of their relationship in the 4th season.**

**I've been looking the 1st season yesterday with my friend and well… we want to have this brotherly interaction back.**

**Okay… to the story… before you are bored to death… :)**

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Overhearing

"Hey dad." The eighteen year old boy answered the phone with a smile when he recognised the dial number. "Where are you… how are you… what are you doing… do you need help… do I have to research something?"

"Dean…" John chuckled, happy to hear his firstborn, after two weeks. "Just one question at a time."

"Okay" Dean bit his lip. "How are you?"

John grinned affectionately, having guessed that this was the one question, Dean would pick. "I'm fine… don't worry, I'm just calling to ask how you two are doing."

"We're fine. Sammy has theatre-class right now. I'm gonna get him in an hour. He has already a lot of friends in this school. I'm glad that we've decided to stay here." At first Dean hasn't been so fond of the idea to stay at this place, leaving their dad alone again, but seeing that his brother was making friends, he got along with the plan.

"Good to hear that." John said softly. Two weeks were a long space of time, when you are missing someone. "Okay, Bobby, Caleb and I need to go to work. Say hello to Sam."

"I will. Be careful."

"Always." John laughed. "You two, too. Keep an eye on Sam."

"Sammy and I'll be fine, don't worry." Dean assured his father. "Bye dad."

"Bye" Dean heard John hang up, dropping the phone himself. He always had a bad feeling, after a call, knowing that this might be the last one.

Eventually he regained his composure, standing up to prepare some food, he would warm up for Sam as soon he arrived at home, knowing that his little brother would be hungry after his long school-day. He was sure that a real meal, no fast-food would cheer his brother up. He made Sam's favourite meal, _Dean-made _chilli.

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Arriving at the school, he went straight into the house, hearing voices on the floor. He immediately recognized the voice of his brother. "My brother would kill me." He heard Sam laugh, what made him stop in track.

"Come on Sam… you're our friend. It's just a tattoo; your brother wouldn't even see it. And the chicks love it. Since I got mine, I'm a real magnet." An older voice spoke. Dean's mouth fell open.

"Don't we need to show them an ID-card?" Sam asked, his voice not normal, he was mumbling. _He had drunken something._

"Yeah, but I've got enough of them." The other boy laughed.

Dean took a deep breath making up a calm façade, before steeping out of the shadows. Three pairs of eyes watching him. One of them were frightened, the other two boys, who were at least seventeen, eyed him with disgust.

"What do you want here?" One of the boys asked, taking a cigarette out of his bag, while the other took a sip from his beer.

"Hey Samuel" Dean hissed dangerously, seeing his little brother wince.

"You know this guy?" The oldest boy asked, laughing. "Ahh… your brother? He's kind of obtrusive, isn't he?"

"Am I?" Dean looked at Sam, seeing that his brother was more than uncomfortable, blushing, while he tried to hide the half-empty bottle of beer, that was standing beside him.

"Come on, Sam, let's go home." Dean ordered, pointing at the door, when Sam didn't answer. Sam obeyed without hesitation, standing up.

"Hey, Big S, I'm disappointed. Do you really let him talk to you like this?"

_Big S. _Dean wanted to throw up.

Sam looked lost, standing in the middle of his brother and his new friends, than he glared at his brother. "No… I don't let him talk to me like this." Sam went back, sitting down beside the other boys.

"Get out." Dean pointed to the door, speaking through gritted teeth, his voice still calm, though.

Sam struggled obviously with himself, not knowing what to do. He avoided looking in Dean's eyes.

"Leave him alone, he doesn't need you. He is good with us." One of the jerks clapped Sam on his back.

"Sam" Dean shouted and finally his brother looked into his eyes. "Get in the car, right now." All three boys were staring at him, overwhelmed by the outburst. When Dean locked eyes with Sam for a moment, Sam knew from the look of his brother's face that he shouldn't mess with him, anymore. Dean would come over and get him. So he stood up.

"You don't really go, Big S?" His mate asked.

"Shut up." Dean barked, letting Sam pass, without looking at him, but felt his brother stand behind him. Sam looked up at his brother, he was mad like hell, but at least he didn't want to embarrass Sam on purpose, but he actually had embarrassed him, shouting at him in front of his friends.

"Go" Dean urged, turning around, still not touching Sam; but as soon they were around the corner, Dean laid a warning hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam didn't know how to behave. He knew that he was in for a lecture or a fight.

"Get in." Dean shoved Sam to the passenger side, sitting down behind the wheel.

"Dean" San began, wanting to explain.

"Not now…" Dean silenced him, starting the car. Sam nodded, waiting.

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Back in the motel room Sam sat down on the couch, particularly feeling Dean's eyes on him. He nearly jumped though when Dean sat down beside him. "Let me smell your breath." Dean ordered.

"No…" Sam shook his head violently; looking like his brother has lost his mind. He definitely didn't want Dean to smell his breath, fearing the reaction.

"I'm serious." Dean gripped Sam's chin with his right hand, turning the smaller head roughly around. Sam had his mouth closed, glaring at the older man and struggling against the hold.

"Don't hit me." Dean hissed, nearly touching Sam's nose with his own, having just caught the hand of his brother right before his face, pressing the wrist, though it wasn't enough pressure to hurt the kid. "Blow." Dean remained right in this position, holding Sam's chin and his wrist.

Sam, who was limp in Dean's grip, looked straight into his brother's eyes, before letting out a soft blow.

"You want to explain yourself?" Dean asked, smelling the reek of cigarettes and beer.

"No." Sam shook his head, glad when Dean released him. "Perhaps you want to explain why you are shouting at me in front of my friends."

"I didn't shout at first." Dean asked made sure. "And I had every right, you were drinking and smoking. What happened, normally you're so responsible."

"It's fun." Sam bit his lip.

"Right." Dean nodded, getting up.

"You are drinking on parties, too." Sam shouted, when he heard the ironic answer of his brother.

"I do?" Dean laughed. "You know obviously more than I do. I don't drink alcohol, because most of the times I have to drive afterwards."

"You really don't drink?" Sam asked his brother in disbelieve, he knew that Dean would never smoke, but he had guessed that he was at least drinking a little bit.

"No I don't. And I've thought you would know better." Dean complained. "You don't really want to get a tattoo, do you?"

"Oh don't try to act like my dad, you aren't." Sam scoffed rashly.

Dean gripped his jacket. "Chilli is on the stove, if you're hungry. I'm out for a while."

When Dean came back, Sam was still wide awake, poking at his chilli. He hated to eat alone; he needed to talk to somebody, while eating.

Dean disappeared in the bathroom, again leaving Sam, who let go of his fork to go to bed, hating this silence between them two.

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"Dean?" Sam asked, yawning, trying to wake his brother. He didn't really wanted to talk to him, but Dean was the only ride to school.

"Yeah" Dean asked in his sleep.

"You have to wake up." Sam stood in front of his brother's bed. Normally he would pull Dean's blanket away, or lay down beside his brother, enjoying the little time, when both of them were still tired enough to show a little affection.

"I'm 'wake." Dean rubbed his eyes, looking up at his brother, before heading for the bathroom. Sam stood at the same spot for a moment, running a hand through his long hair. He hated when Dean was mad at him.

"Dean…" Sam whispered, following Dean into the bath, joining him, when he brushed his teeth. "I don't need you to pick me up after school today."

"Forget it; I won't let you get a tattoo." Dean sapped, turning around to face his brother. "I'm gonna beat you up, myself when you won't be there after school."

"It's my decision." Sam yelled.

"It's not allowed, you're fourteen years old." Dean spit into the sink, whipping his mouth with a towel, before making a step to his brother. "_I don't allow it._"

"You can't forbid me anything." Sam shouted.

"I am." Dean breathed, before making a decision. "You're grounded." He had never punished his brother, he had talked with him, fought, but never actually showed him, that he was the older one.

"I'm _what?_" Sam asked eyes wide opened.

"You are grounded for the remaining time, we're spending here." Dean looked at his brother, furiously. "You have drunken beer and you've smoked."

"Okay I was right, you definite are not dad. You're _worse._" Sam gripped his school bag, heading out of the room, chased by Dean.

"Stop." Dean yelled. Fortunately he was faster than Sam, getting a firm hold on his little brother's arm.

"_Let go!_" Sam struggled with his brother.

"_STOP_" Dean repeated, loud, with a deep, forcefully voice, what always made Sam obey.

"What's up with you?" Dean asked, letting Sam go. "I don't recognize you anymore. Get in the car."

The car ride was quiet. Dean still wore his pyjama, hadn't changed into his casual cloth, so he didn't got out of the car, when he reached school, just letting Sam out, before driving back to the motel.

"Hey Big S." Carl, one of Sam's new friends from the theatre class greeted, when he saw the boy, staring after the Impala. "Had you much trouble yesterday? You're brother seemed mad."

"It was okay." Sam lied. "It doesn't matter what he is saying."

"Yeah, that's our boy." Carl's best friend, Zack, responded.

"So" Carl smiled. "What about our plans today?"

Sam looked at the older boy. He wanted to be like them, it was so hard for him to make new friends and these guys were famous at this school. "Well… we'll meet after school, right?" Sam asked, his voice calm. _Dean will kill me._

"Why going to school… let's play hooky." Carl suggested. "So we have enough time to get a tattoo."

"What?" Sam was taken aback. "Skipping class?"

"Yeah… why not?" Zack asked. "Come on, you're good at school. It won't hurt you."

_Dean's going to hurt me enough for doing this._ "I…"

"Oh… you aren't scared of your brother?" Carl laughed.

"No…" Sam laughed joylessly, his voice was trembling. Who did he want to fool?

"So… proof it, ditch school with us."

"Okay." Sam felt like he was going to be sick. "Are we going straight to the tattoo shop?"

"Good idea" Carl chuckled, dropping his arm around Sam's shoulder. "I'm going to write you a parental permission; with your baby-face they won't believe that you're old enough." Sam nodded, unable to say something.

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"Hello, kids…" The man behind the counter greeted the three boys; he had a long beard, was corpulent and had some big tattoos. The shop was little and dark, Sam didn't think that this was a good place to get a tattoo, but he was sure as hell that he would get one here.

"Hey… we want to get a tattoo." Carl stood in front of the other two.

"Ah… you don't look old enough." Sam expected him to ask, why they weren't at school, but he seemed to like the idea of having some underage children in his shop.

"No worry, we have permissions." Carl grinned.

"Good. Hand it over." The man smirked at the youngest boy, who was looking terrified.

"Here is mine…" Zack put it on the counter, nudging Sam. He had faked the signature, himself.

"Here's mine." Sam mumbled.

"Good, you can go into the other room to my employee and you come with me." Sam followed the man into another room, his stomach grumbling. _Damn it._

"So boy." The man pointed to a chair, quietly forcing Sam to sit down. "What tattoo do you want?"

"I…" Sam cleared his voice. "… I… don't know."

"Look at this prospect, I'm right back." He stated, throwing a prospect on Sam's lap. Sam looked down at the pictures. He didn't like tattoos, why should somebody destroy his own flesh? But there was no way back.

Seeing a little pentagram, he decided to take this on his right shoulder, a bad feeling in his belly.

"Have one?" The returning man asked.

"Yeah… this." Sam swallowed hard, exposing his arm.

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"Winchester" Dean answered his phone.

"Hello, it's Mr. Hesc, the teacher of your son." A male voice sounded.

Dean bit his lip, it wasn't a good sign when teachers are calling. Perhaps he should just act like Sam's father. _Oh don't try to act like my dad, you aren't. _Sam's words spun in Dean's head.

He could at least try to save his little brother's ass, by acting like his father.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"He isn't at school today." The teacher informed.

_Oh boy… I'm gonna kill you._ Dean gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call… he has a cold, but I think, tomorrow, he will be in class again."

"Good, could you please call next time?" The teacher asked politely.

"I will. Thanks for calling." Dean hung up, gripping his car-keys, before going to his car.

After he had started the car, he dialled Sam's number. The phone was turned off. "You little bitch" Dean cursed under his breath.

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"I'm sorry, here weren't kids…"

"Thanks" Dean turned around, leaving the third shop in a row.

On the way to his car, Dean's cell rung. "Sam you better tell me where you are, or I'm gonna kill you very painful." Dean greeted, shouting into his phone, after he had seen the number.

"Hey Dean." Dean couldn't help, but wince at the little voice of his brother. "I'm at the train station. I was caught, having no ticket. Pick me up, please, I'll explain later."

"Sam… you can't imagine in how much trouble you are, right now." Dean hissed into his phone, ending the call, without waiting for an answer.

He raced to the station, his face red from anger.

At the station he headed to the office, not even knocking, going inside. Sam was sitting there, head in his hands, alone with an officer.

"Hello, you're his guardian?" The man asked watching Dean.

"Yeah… I'm his big brother." Dean answered, glaring at Sam, who didn't look up. "I'm sorry. Can I deal with him?"

The officer looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean, smirking. "Well… after you paid the fine, you can have him."

"Okay." Dean handed him the fine, before gripping Sam's arm. Sam yelped, but stood up, letting Dean lead him outside.

"Dean…" Sam's voice was thin, his eyes were red, like he has been crying. He sounded beaten. Dean turned around and looked at his younger brother, with furious eyes.

"What?" Dean released Sam's arm, with a hard movement, making Sam wince. "You want to tell me, how sorry you are for disobeying, ditching school, smoking, drinking? Save it. Really Sam, you can do what you want. Try not to get hurt and enjoy your life." Sam looked at his brother, his mouth slightly opened. "I'm tired of being worried. I've searched for you the whole day. You can be thankful that my class would have started two hours later, so I've been able to answer the phone, otherwise your school have sent the police to search you."

Sam felt small, Dean standing in front of him, shouting. "I'm sorry." He whispered; he couldn't believe that Dean had helped him with the school thing.

Dean shook his head, frowning. "Get in the car."

"No. I want to talk about this." Sam rounded Dean, to stand in front of him, holding him back. Dean could have easily shoved Sam away, but he stopped, looking down in Sam's eyes; his little brother struggled not to cry. "You're mad. I got it, but you didn't even ask where I have been."

"I'm not interested." Dean barked.

Sam looked like Dean had slapped him, getting into the car.

Dean let his head fall, running his hand through his hair, before sitting down beside Sam. His little brother was sitting in the same position, like he was sitting in the office, his head buried in his hands. Dean shook his head, glaring at the trembling boy. It wasn't easy to be mad, when Sam acted like this. Both of them knew this and Dean guessed Sam did this on purpose.

"I'm gonna give you the money back." Sam suddenly stated, after a while, lifting his head to look at Dean. "I'm gonna work for it, as soon as I'm not grounded anymore. I'm gonna clean up; when you are telling me to and I'm gonna cook." Sam bit his lip, swallowing down the tears. "I'm gonna accept _any_ punishment you want to give me, but don't act like I don't care."

Dean signed, pulling over to the shoulder of the street. "Out" he ordered.

"Dean" Sam yelped pitifully. "I'm sorry…"

Dean shook his head, lifting a hand, so Sam shut up. "I'm not leaving you here. I just want to talk." He assured. Sam immediately got out, sitting down on the hood of the Impala, while Dean stood in front of him, still anger written in his face.

"Where do you have it?" Dean asked; his voice calm and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Have what?" Sam titled his head a little, his eyes holding Dean's gaze.

"The tattoo. Don't act stupid, it would be the only reason for you to ditch class." Dean barked again.

"Oh… I don't have one." Sam answered. "Look." He lifted the sleeve of his arm to show Dean the pre-drawing of the pentagram. His big brother took the arm into his hands, inspecting the sign. Sam looked down at Dean's head, resisting the urge to move his other arm around Dean's shoulder, needing a hug right now. What had he thought? He should have listened to Dean… so he had prevent this fight.

"I' sorry." He whispered again.

"You're lucky that you don't have one." Dean looked up. "Tell me what happened." He sat down beside Sam.

"I got scared." Sam answered. "I felt like I was going to faint, when I saw the needle. I didn't want to have colour in my skin."

"Good decision." Dean smiled, waiting for Sam to carry on.

"I've told him that I don't want one and he said that he had guessed that." Sam continued. "Well… Carl said the same. He called me a coward and tried to persuade me to do it. But I wouldn't, so he told me to go back to my brother and threw me out of theatre-class." Sam tried not to sound too pitiful. "They didn't want to be friends with me anymore. So they just left me and I didn't know how to get home without money." Sam closed his eyes, expecting Dean to shout again, trying to brace himself.

"Sammy" Dean laid an arm on the spot between Sam's shoulder blades, silently telling him that he was there for him this way. Still _mad_, but there. "They weren't your friends. Hell… they are just some stupid jerks, who are messing with younger kids."

Sam leaned into the touch, absorbing some reassurance.

"You should think about what you're doing." Dean shook his head, moving his hand up to Sam's neck and back again. "Today worked out good, but next time you might have not so much luck. You could have got in real trouble."

"Sorry" Sam repeated again. "Will you dad tell everything?" He sounded more scared than he had intended.

"Are you joking? I don't want to clean up the blood, after dad had killed you." Dean stated, sounding serious, while his eyes were smiling. "But you're still grounded." Dean laughed, when he saw Sam's disbelieving eyes. "Hey… don't sue. I have to make sure that you won't go and get a piercing or something like this."

"Not funny." Sam stated, sitting up straight, so he could lean against Dean. "You're still mad?"

"Rather scared." Dean confessed, letting his arm drop around Sam's shoulder, so Sam was comfortable. "You are so strong, but your wish to be a normal teen is getting you steadily in trouble. You are loosing yourself for it and this is scaring me."

"I…"

"You don't have to be sorry." Dean chuckled, hugging Sam tighter. "I can't hear you say sorry, anymore. It's freaking me out."

"Okay." Sam let his head fall on Dean's shoulder. "It's hard for me not to have friends and these boys were just accepting me, like I am. I was happy to have somebody to hang out."

"First of all, they aren't your friends. Friends don't try to make you ditch school or break the law." Dean mumbled. "And hey, Sammy, you have me to hang out with."

"Yeah… like you want to have me around, 24/7." Sam let out an ironic laugh.

"Where is that coming from?" Dean asked, lifting Sam's head, to look in his eyes. "Why do you think I don't want to spend time with you. Of course I do."

"Really?" Sam asked. "You're eighteen, why would you want to spend time with you're little brother. I think I wouldn't want to have somebody around who is so much younger than me."

"You're stupid." Dean stated, shaking his head. "Well… it's fun to go to parties sometimes, but you're the only one who I can talk to. It doesn't matter how old you are. We two aren't acting our ages, anyway."

"Yeah." Sam smiled. "We're okay?"

"Sure." Dean nodded. "As long you aren't smoking again or drinking, till you're old enough."

"I won't." Sam promised.

"And if you want to ditch class, tell me before doing it, so I can call your school." Dean smiled.

"I don't want to skip class again." Sam assured his head still on Dean's shoulder. "Thanks for helping me today."

"You're welcome." Dean stood up, taking Sam with him. "Let's go home."

Before Dean was able to move, Sam slung both arms around him, his forehead pressed into Dean's chest. Dean chuckled, but moved his arms around Sam.

"Thanks" Sam pulled away, going to the passenger side.

Dean shook his head, still smiling, before he went to the driver's side.

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**Reviews?**


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